


The Bet

by HashtagTheyFucked



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Betting, F/F, Sister-Sister Relationship, Spellcest, sabrina keeps fucking shit up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagTheyFucked/pseuds/HashtagTheyFucked
Summary: “Deal,” Zelda says. “If Sabrina manages to cause unmitigated havoc less than three times this week, I will refrain from killing you for an entire year. If she fucks up even one more time, you will follow a dessert menu of my design for a full month, in addition to making me whatever snacks I ask you to during that time."
Relationships: Hilda Spellman & Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 24
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrenchTwistResistance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchTwistResistance/gifts).



> This is for frenchtwistresistance, for our little secret satan exchange. I hope it's not too fluffy for you. Enjoy!

It’s a Sunday evening and Zelda is pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, worrying at her cuticles. 

“What are we going to do with that girl!” 

Her exclamation is rhetorical.

“Come on, Zelds,” Hilda says anyway, “it’s not as bad as all that. It’s not like she instigated the apocalypse… this time.”

Zelda shoots her an exasperated glare and Hilda winces.

“That there even is a ‘this time’ is _exactly_ the problem, Hilda. How many times are we expected to clean up Sabrina’s messes? To suffer the indignities, the humiliation that every one of her little schemes-gone-awry brings to the Spellman name? I wish I could say that this is her mother’s mortal influence, but she is entirely too much like Edward for her own good!”

Hilda worries her lower lip as she watches Zelda pacing and ranting. She wonders if bringing up Zelda’s blood pressure would end up helping it or not. She decides against it.

“She really is improving, though!” Hilda insists, “I bet she only messes up, hmm, three times this week.”

Zelda stops her pacing and looks at Hilda, suddenly eerily still.

“You bet?”

Hilda nods.

“And what, pray tell, are you willing to offer for this bet?”

Hilda sputters for a second, almost laughing before she sees Zelda’s deadly impassive face.

“Oh,” she says, “it was just an expression, love,” 

She sees a spark extinguish in Zelda’s eyes. Zelda finally takes a seat, looking disappointed. 

“Of course,” she sighs, “Just an expression. You see, Hilda? You don’t even have enough faith in Sabrina to offer anything up.”

Somehow, even though Hilda had wanted Zelda to calm down, her quiet dejection is much worse than her worryingly energetic pacing.

“Well, what do you want to bet?”

Zelda waves a hand dismissively. “You don’t need to humor me, Hilda,” she sighs.

“Humor you? When have I ever, Zelda?”

Zelda sits up, leans forward a bit, “Alright, then. What do you have that I might want?”

Hilda feels herself blushing. “Erm,” she says, at a loss, “I’ll be your best friend?” 

“Who needs a best friend when she has a sister?” Zelda responds in a low, level voice.

“I’ll bake you my famous dark chocolate cake?” She squeaks, her voice going up in pitch quite without her consent.

“You’ll bake it for me anyway.”

“Yeah, of course I will, but if you win, I’ll be your cake-baking slave for a whole week. Whatever you want, whenever you want, I’ll bake it. You don’t even have to ask! Just order me to do it and it’s done!”

Zelda smirks and Hilda thinks she may have accidentally gone overboard. “Alright, sister. And what is it that you might want from me?”

Hilda’s stomach flutters and her brain momentarily short-circuits at her sister’s question. There is a moment when Hilda is tempted to ask Zelda for some sort of romantic gesture or assurance of affection. But she knows that asking anything of the sort from Zelda is the quickest way to wait another decade for it. She settles, instead, on something much more practical, though she still worries about how Zelda might react.

“Could you maybe, er, not kill me for a bit?”

Zelda’s eyebrows both shoot up and her mouth opens in a surprised little “O”.

Hilda fights her natural instinct to qualify her request, fidgeting with the sleeves of her cardigan as she waits for Zelda’s response. After a moment, Zelda nods.

Then the negotiation starts. They whittle and add on to the terms of the bet until finally Zelda sticks out her hand towards Hilda.

“Deal,” Zelda says. “If Sabrina manages to cause unmitigated havoc less than three times this week, I will refrain from killing you for an entire year. If she fucks up even one more time, you will follow a dessert menu of my design for a full month, in addition to making me whatever snacks I ask you to during that time."

Hilda sticks her hand out towards Zelda who eyes it for a moment, before deliberately reaching the last few inches to grasp Hilda’s hand gently. For a moment they stand still, holding hands in front of the fire. Zelda looks at their clasped hands before slowly raising her eyes to meet Hilda’s. She raises one delicate brow challengingly and Hilda’s resolve and her grip both strengthen. Zelda’s lips curve into a smile as she lets Hilda firmly shake her hand up and down. Zelda brushes her thumb against the soft back of Hilda’s hand and their handshake stills, their eyes boring into each other’s. 

“Shall we head on up to bed, then?” Hilda asks, trying to ignore how her voice sounds more breathy than usual.

“I think we’d better, sister.” And Zelda tucks Hilda hand into the crook of her elbow as she leads them towards the stairs.

* * *

The next day is uneventful. Sabrina goes to Baxter High and comes home and in between, Hilda and Zelda work together in the mortuary. At dinner, Hilda asks how Sabrina’s day went.

“Fine,” Sabrina answers, “pretty boring, actually.”

Hilda smiles and she certainly is not smug when she looks at Zelda across the table. Zelda rolls her eyes anyway and spears a piece of steak rather aggressively.

In their bedroom that night, Hilda glances over at Zelda, watching her get comfortable under the blankets before she turns off the light.

“See, Zelds?” She tells her sister. “No fuck ups.”

Zelda punches her pillow into shape, but her voice is calm and collected as she lays her head down. “It’s only Monday, Hilda. Now turn out the light.”

Hilda looks at Zelda, eyes closed, copper hair fanned out over her pillow and wonders if Zelda would let her into her bed tonight. Hilda must have been staring for too long because Zelda rolls onto her other side without opening her eyes and growls, “The light, Hildegard.”

Hilda forces herself to turn off the lamp instead of staring at the curve of Zelda’s backside.

“Good night, Zelda.”

Zelda doesn’t respond.

* * *

Later that night, past the witching hour and right in the middle of Hilda’s very pleasant dream about Zelda, Mary Wardwell, and a coffee shop with a very lax dress code, Sabrina bursts into their room. 

“Aunties! I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“What is it now, Sabrina?” Zelda sighs as Hilda rubs the sleep from her eyes. 

They deal with Sabrina’s accidentally unleashed demon much more efficiently than the last time and go back to bed. Hilda looks at the clock and almost groans out loud when she sees that there’s less than an hour and a half until she’ll have to wake up again. 

Just when Hilda has finally gotten comfortable, she hears Zelda say, “Strike one.” 

“Oh, go to sleep, Zelda.”

On Tuesday morning proper, everyone is tired from being up half the night. Fortunately, though, the worst thing that happens is that Sabrina is almost late to school. She teleports herself at the last minute, having slept too late to walk. Nothing alarming or even noteworthy happens that afternoon or evening either. 

“Should I set an alarm for the middle of the night, sister?” Zelda asks from her own bed as she leafs through another new theological text. Hilda looks over, a question on her lips, when Zelda answers herself, “No, Sabrina’s been managing to wake us quite efficiently, so I won’t bother.”

Hilda rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the romance novel in her lap. Of course, Zelda is just trying to antagonize her. 

They go to bed and this time Hilda’s very pleasant dream involving her sister hosing down the hearse is able to play out uninterrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters will take us to the end of the week and we'll see who the winner of the bet is.


	2. Chapter 2

On Wednesday, shortly after lunch, they get a phone call at the mortuary from Baxter High. Somehow, Sabrina has managed to light a fire in the girls locker room. The car ride to pick her up is silent.

“Aunties!” Sabrina exclaims when they arrive. She’s waiting for them on the front steps with the newly returned Mary Wardwell standing next to her. “I swear it’s not what it sounds like, Coach Craven was being, like, really sexist _again_ and we only wanted to have a small protest to make a point! It was, like, a feminist thing, but I guess the protest got a bit out of hand…” She trails off at the twin disapproving looks she gets from both her aunts.

“It’s all just a big misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Ms. Wardwell says apologetically, wringing her hands, “but best she stays home for the rest of the day. ”

They get home after another silent car ride and Sabrina slinks off to her room, mumbling something about homework as she goes. Hilda watches their niece go up the stairs and then looks at Zelda, who is standing next to her in the foyer, lighting a cigarette, as casual as anything. 

“Well?” Hilda says, looking up at her sister expectantly, “Aren’t you going to, I dunno, berate her or something?” 

Zelda takes a deep drag from her cigarette before slowly blowing the smoke out in Hilda’s face. “No,” she says, and sashays away. 

Hilda is left gaping in a cloud of smoke. 

That evening, Hilda is getting ready for bed while Zelda rubs lotion into her arms at her vanity.

“How confident are you feeling that Sabrina will behave herself in the next three days? Would you like to forfeit?” She glances at Hilda in the mirror and smirks. “I’d understand if you did.” 

“No,” Hilda says, a bit too quickly and she winces at herself. She schools her expression before she goes on, “I have every confidence in our niece.” 

Zelda eyes her in the mirror. “Of course you do,” she agrees.

* * *

Thursday morning goes off without a hitch and Sabrina comes home from school to Zelda smoking on the front porch.

“Hi, Aunt Zee!” She says brightly. 

“Sabrina, good afternoon,” Zelda says. Sabrina is about to go inside when Zelda goes on. “There’s a monkey’s paw in the parlor.” She looks over her sunglasses at Sabrina sternly. “Do you know anything about it?” 

“No, Aunt Zelda.” 

Zelda regards her for one more moment. 

“Hmm,” she says, exhaling smoke through her nose like a dragon, “Well, see that you steer clear of it, monkey’s paws can be very dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands. It must belong to Ambrose.” 

“You bet, Aunt Zee,” Sabrina says quickly, already halfway through the front door. The door slams closed and Zelda smiles, taking another self-satisfied drag of her cigarette. 

In the parlor, meanwhile, Sabrina rushes in and looks around. 

Hilda happens to be dusting in the corner and she’s glad that the dim lighting provides her some cover to observe Sabrina and the mischief she is no doubt about to get up to. It’s not that Hilda thinks Zelda is right, but she must admit that she recognizes the expression on her niece’s face. Hilda decides to step out of the shadows. 

“Hello, lamb.” She smiles at Sabrina’s startled jump. “What are you looking for?” She puts on her most kindly and interested face, even though she has a suspicion that Sabrina has been told of the monkey’s paw that had previously been on the table. Hilda herself had it found in there before putting it away only a few minutes before Sabrina’s frenzied entrance. 

“Oh, nothing,” Sabrina says, falsely casual, “Auntie Zelda said there was a monkey’s paw in here and I thought I’d just put it away in the attic for you.” 

“Mmhmm,” Hilda hums, eyeing Sabrina skeptically. The pieces are starting to come together in her head, “Well, I already put it away in a secure place. Something like that could be dangerous in untrained hands.” 

“Right, that’s what Auntie Zelda said,” Sabrina says dejectedly. “Okay, well I’m gonna start on my homework. See you later, Aunt Hilda.” 

“Alright, love, bye now.” 

Hilda watches Sabrina walk away and only once she hears her footsteps fade down the upstairs hallway does she snap, “Zelda!” 

Zelda slinks around the corner, almost pouting. 

“You’re no fun, Hildie,” she says. 

Hilda takes an angry step forward, a threatening finger pointed toward Zelda’s chest, “I’ll show you no fun, you meddling--” she stops short at the darkly amused quirk of Zelda’s lips. Zelda is enjoying this! Unbelievable. She straightens herself up and smooths her cardigan down her front. “Right,” she says, clearing her throat a little bit. She doesn’t have anything else to really say, so she simply walks away with as much dignity as she can muster. She wishes she didn’t hear Zelda’s low chuckle as she leaves.

At the end of dinner, Zelda sits back in her chair, dabbing at the corner of her mouth delicately with her napkin and says apropos of nothing, “Sabrina, would you like to help me make crepe suzettes tonight?” 

Sabrina looks tempted for a moment, but then she says apologetically, “I would love to, Aunt Zelda, but I was actually going to call Roz after dinner.” 

Zelda continues in a measured voice, as if Sabrina hadn’t spoken, “I thought you could be in charge of the alcohol and matches.” 

Ambrose looks at his Aunt, last forkful of mashed potatoes frozen halfway to his mouth. Hilda glares at her sister from across the table. Sabrina pauses. 

“Yeah,” she says slowly, “that sounds fun, actually,” 

“No!” Hilda suddenly exclaims and it is her turn to be the recipient of a sisterly glare from across the table. “I mean,” she flounders momentarily, “I’m already making brownies for Ambrose!” 

“You are?” Ambrose says, before wincing at Hilda’s foot colliding with his shin. He quickly corrects himself with a much more enthusiastic, “You are! Of course, how could I forget.”

“Oh no, Ambrose,” Hilda says, exaggerating her disappointment, “I know how much you were looking forward to those brownies.” 

“I really was, Auntie,” he says, following Hilda’s lead and shaking his head morosely. 

It seems to work because Sabrina pipes up, “That’s okay, Ambrose, I really should call Roz anyway. Maybe another time, Auntie Zelda,” before excusing herself and bounding up the stairs. 

Hilda and Zelda glare at each other. 

“So…” Ambrose ventures, “Am I getting those brownies?” 

He gets two unanimously in unison “No”s for his trouble.

Both of them are silently fuming as they get ready for bed later that evening. 

“Crepe suzettes, Zelda? Really? Do you actually want the whole house to burn down?” 

Zelda sits very straight in her vanity chair and puts her hairbrush down. 

“I simply had a craving, Hilda,” she says loftily. She gets up and starts to remove the decorative pillows from the head of her bed. 

“Craving my arse,” Hilda mutters, turning down her own blankets. 

Zelda is reclining in bed when she responds, “Well, now that you mention it, Hilda…” 

But before she has a chance to finish, one of Hilda’s throw pillows hits her in the side of the face. She’s ready with a petty retort on the tip of her tongue when she sees Hilda’s pout. 

“Oh, go to sleep, Zelds.” 

Zelda laughs instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the baxter high incident, when hilda is left gaping in a cloud of smoke after zelda tells her no and walks away, I need you all to picture hilda as that one pikachu meme. thank you and goodnight.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day at breakfast finds Hilda puttering around anxiously. It’s Friday and she can feel the restless energy of the end of the week.

“Do you want a ride to school, love?” She asks when Sabrina rushes in to grab a piece of toast. 

“No thanks, Aunt Hilda, I’m meeting Harvey and Theo to walk. Love you, bye!” And she’s out the door. 

From behind the morning edition of _Le Parisien,_ Zelda smirks. 

“Still feeling confident, sister?” Hilda only glares. “Well,” Zelda says, folding her paper and standing up, “I’m off to attend to business at The Academy.” Hilda is still glaring. 

“You’re not going to try to cause trouble, are you?” 

Zelda pauses on her way out of the kitchen, changes tack and takes Hilda’s hand in her own. 

“No, Hilda, I promise.” She gives a little squeeze and a half smile. Hilda’s heart flutters, even as she narrows her eyes at her sister. Zelda leans in closer and says, “That girl needs no help finding trouble.” And she pecks Hilda on the cheek before pulling away, an amused smile on her face as she breezes out the door just like Sabrina had. It takes Hilda a full 20 seconds to remember how to move and when she does she rolls her eyes.

Zelda is gone for most of the day, leaving Hilda to look after the mortuary and worry. By the time Sabrina gets home from school, Hilda is waiting for her, and she can feel the young girl’s energy as she mounts the front steps. Sabrina’s hand is still outstretched, reaching for the doorknob when Hilda prematurely pulls the door open to greet her. Sabrina has said it’s uncanny when Hilda does that, but she’s so on edge, she can’t help herself. 

“Is everything alright? I mean, how was school, love?” 

Sabrina gives her a quizzical look. “School was fine, Auntie.” Hilda breathes a sigh of relief. “By the way,” Sabrina continues, “my friends are here, so don’t be weird.” 

Hilda looks behind Sabrina for the first time to see Theo and Roz there as well. 

“Hi, Miss Spellman,” Roz says while Theo waves. 

“Oh,” Hilda says, stepping aside to let them in, “Hello, you two.” 

The teens disappear up to Sabrina’s room. At least their niece is less likely to get into trouble with her mortal friends, Hilda hopes. She thinks back to the incident on Wednesday and internally winces. Maybe not.

Hilda is deep cleaning the oven to keep her mind off of her niece, keeping an ear out for anything suspicious. She occasionally hears laughter coming from the upper floor, but nothing more sinister than that. 

By the time Roz’s father arrives to pick Roz and Theo up, Zelda has returned from the Academy and is sitting with Hilda in the kitchen, afternoon edition of a Czech newspaper open in front of her face. Hilda has moved on to kneading dough. Sabrina’s mortal friends poke their heads into the kitchen to say a quick goodbye.

“Bye, my loves, good to see you both,” Hilda says wiping her hands on her apron before she waves at them.

Zelda flips down the top half of her paper and gives them each a polite nod. “Rosalind, Theodore,” she says.

“Um, actually Miss Spellman, it’s just Theo,” the poor boy corrects her nervously.

Zelda raises an eyebrow at him, humms a vague acknowledgement and flips her paper back up.

Hilda gives them a conspiratorial little eye roll, tilting her head in Zelda’s direction. She smiles at them and gives them another wave. “Get home safe, now.”

When Hilda walks into their bedroom that evening, Zelda is already relaxing in bed, a notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand. There is a thick hardcover cookbook open in front of her. 

“Which is more difficult to make, Hilda: chocolate soufflé or baked alaska?” Zelda asks her airily.

“I’d say the soufflé,” Hilda answers as she gets ready for bed. “Why?”

Zelda makes a little notation in the notebook before looking up at Hilda. “Just planning my dessert menu for the coming month. I wouldn’t want you getting off too easily, now would I?” And she smiles suggestively at Hilda. 

Hilda returns a sarcastic little false laugh of her own. “Hell forbid you ever make anything easy for me.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Saturday. 

The last day of the bet. 

If Sabrina fucks up, Zelda will have won and Hilda will likely spend a full month in the kitchen, baking up whatever Zelda’s whims desire. 

Sabrina sleeps in, and when she comes down for food mid-morning, Zelda is at the kitchen table working on her menu.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Sabrina,” Zelda tells her when she asks after what Zelda’s working on, “just a little bet your Aunt Hilda and I have. I’m about to win it.”

“What’s the bet?”

Hilda interrupts then. “What are your plans for today, young miss?” She asks Sabrina, setting a plate of blueberry pancakes down in front of the girl.

Sabrina tells them all about her plans to visit her friends at The Academy over breakfast.

“Be sure to stay out of trouble, now,” Hilda reminds her when she gets up to leave, “and be home by midnight.”

Zelda looks up at Hilda from her menu planning, raising one eyebrow challengingly. Midnight is when the bet ends.

The day passes quietly enough at the mortuary. Hilda runs some errands in town and Zelda does the laundry. There are no frantic texts from Sabrina, no emergency phone calls. 

Sabrina comes home at precisely 11:45 and seems surprised to find both of her aunts waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. 

“Hi, Aunties. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, love,” Hilda says. 

“What about you, Sabrina? You didn’t get up to any trouble did you?” Zelda asks.

The child has the gall to look insulted.

“Of course not, Aunt Zelda! I just hung out with Melvin and Elsbeth. We even studied together for my conjuring report. I swear, it’s like you guys don’t trust me at all!”

Zelda scoffs and rolls her eyes before looking at Hilda for confirmation. Hilda concentrates for a moment, but can sense no deception from their niece.

Everything is fine, Hilda realizes. She looks at Zelda in surprise and nods. 

She has won, to the sister’s mutual shock.

“Well, come on, love, off to bed with you,” Hilda says, ushering Sabrina up the stairs. She looks over at Zelda, who is standing still with an unreadable expression. Hilda can’t help the giddy smile she feels spreading across her face. She actually won! She tries to tamp it down as she gestures awkwardly after Sabrina. “I’ll just, um…” Zelda looks at Hilda directly, still eerily expressionless. “Right,” Hilda says, letting her hands drop, “be right back.” And she follows their niece up the stairs to tuck her in. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


When she comes downstairs again, she finds Zelda standing over the kitchen sink and smoking, her gaze fixed on the milky reflection in the dark window.

Hilda stands in the middle of the kitchen with a chef’s knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. Just in case Zelda wants options.

Her sister doesn’t turn around, though Hilda can feel the shift in the air that means Zelda is aware of her presence. She takes a shuddering drag of her cigarette and, on the exhale says, “Congratulations.” Her voice is too quiet, the tone flat and monotonous.

“Zelds?” Hilda says tentatively, but Zelda simply keeps staring out of the kitchen window. Hilda takes a step closer. “I know what would make you feel better,” she tries in a nervous little sing-song. 

At that, Zelda spins sharply to face her and Hilda nearly takes a startled step backwards at her sister’s sudden movement. There are tear tracks shining on Zelda’s cheeks. Zelda vanishes her cigarette holder with an annoyed wave as she takes in the weapons in Hilda’s hands.

“I know you, er… well, I know you lost our little bet, but you can do it just this once and we’ll start the year once I come back… I don’t mind too much. It’s just, I hate to see you so upset, Zelds.”

Zelda lets out a low laugh, but it’s hollow. “Upset?” She says quietly, “Do you really think so little of me, sister? Why should I be upset?”

Hilda doesn’t know how to respond. She gingerly holds the weapons in her hands out towards Zelda, feeling her nervous smile slip into more of a grimace.

A tear slips down a porcelain cheek as Zelda looks between the knife and the hammer. Her lower lip wobbles in that telling way it always has and she turns her face to the ceiling, seemingly willing the tears to stop falling.

“Oh,” Hilda breathes, as her heart breaks a little. 

She rushes to put the murder weapons down on the table and hurries to her sister.

“Oh, Zelda, love,” Hilda says softly as she wraps Zelda up in her arms. Zelda bows her head to rest it on Hilda’s shorter shoulder and the tears come in earnest. Hilda holds Zelda, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she sobs, unsure of how to fix whatever’s wrong. “Let it out, love, it’s alright,” she murmurs into Zelda’s hair. “It’s alright, whatever it is. I’m here.”

Zelda usually isn’t a sore loser, but Hilda can’t think of what else could be upsetting her besides their bet. If anything, she’d think Zelda would be pleased that Sabrina is finally learning some self-control.

Zelda eventually pulls back and scrubs angrily at her cheeks, smudging her already ruined makeup. She sniffles once, rather loudly, and seems to pull herself together somewhat. Hilda waits, hands resting lightly on Zelda’s hips, looking up at her with tender concern.

“I don’t want to kill you, Hilda,” Zelda says to a point somewhere over Hilda’s right shoulder.

“You… you don’t?”

Zelda hits Hilda on the arm and glares at her. “No, you imbecile!”

“Oh,” Hilda says, feeling a small wave of relief wash over her, though she’s still quite lost as to why Zelda is so upset about that statement. “Well then, that’s good, isn’t it?” She asks, trying to lighten the mood a bit, “Keep up that sentiment for a year and we’ll be just fine.”

Zelda shoves at Hilda’s chest, making her stumble back a step and turns away with a noise of frustration.

“Are you being purposefully obtuse? I said I don’t want to kill you. Ever! Not after--” she cuts herself off and rubs at her temples. “I won’t. I’m done with it. You can do whatever you want and I still don’t think I could kill you again. You’re free.”

Hilda is stunned in the face of this unprecedented confession. 

“Well? Zelda says when she realizes Hilda is still there, “What are you waiting for? Go! Leave me! I know you’ve always wanted to and now you can. I won’t stop you, I won’t _do_ anything to you… not now.”

Hilda reaches out, her hand hovering over Zelda’s shoulder. Zelda tenses, feeling the faint warmth of her sister behind her. Finally, Hilda moves those last few inches and her hand lands gently on Zelda’s shoulder.

“Have you ever considered that, perhaps, I don’t actually want to leave you? You’re my sister, Zelda, and I love you.”

Zelda sniffs and turns around to face Hilda, her eyes wide and her lower lip still trembling just the slightest bit. Hilda’s heart melts. She reaches out to wipe at Zelda’s tear-stained cheek with her thumb, taking a step closer as she does so.

“I’m sorry, Zelds,” Hilda says in a near whisper, realizing how close to each other they are, “but you’re stuck with me, same as it’s always been.”

And Hilda tilts her head up to kiss Zelda. The kiss is sweet and gentle and salty from Zelda’s tears. When Hilda pulls away again, she tucks a strand of hair behind Zelda’s ear and Zelda’s eyes blink open.

“Oh,” Zelda says quietly.

“Let’s go to bed, love,” Hilda says, linking her arm through Zelda’s. As they climb the stairs, Hilda says as casually as she can, “I saw that your little menu had homemade icecream on it. Any flavor requests?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to finish this last chapter. I was going to have the bet end the other way around, but my brain didn't like that outcome and it wouldn't give me any good words to write. 
> 
> Not sure why it got lowkey angsty, but here we are, lol.
> 
> Pls lmk what you think!


End file.
